


An Agreement

by alafaye



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 05:27:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2680742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alafaye/pseuds/alafaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wants a mate and children; Draco needs a way to save his family lands and home. They each have what the other wants and needs.</p><p> </p><p>Contains dub con.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Agreement

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2014 Halloween fest, first posted [here](http://hp-creatures.livejournal.com/223314.html). Many thanks to my beta and much more to the mod who showed what couldn't actually be be infinite patience with me, (you were marvelous and I'm sorry I was such trouble).

Heart pounding, Draco rushed in front of a tree and leaned back. His breath came fast and his legs were burning. The forest around him was alive with the sounds of werewolves and yells--all of it in pleasure, or so Draco had been told.

He wondered how any of them believed it was pleasure.

Something rustled the branches above him, but there was no wind. He swore and, as the clouds revealed the full moon, started running again. Running for his life.

Behind him, _something_ chuckled. It wasn't human and it wasn't kind and it didn't just want Draco on all fours.

It wanted his soul.

_Two Weeks Earlier_

Draco slowed his steps and lowered his book when he heard the sound of company coming from the front parlour. They hadn't had company in months, not since the war, and the last company had not been wanted. It had been the Aurors and they'd not been there for tea and crumpets; they had come before the trials had started, raiding and looting and strutting around, knights in a conquered land. Lucius had died in prison, waiting for his trial, and they had lost with him any influence they'd had.

And even before Lucius' death, the Malfoys had become unwanted, avoided in the streets as if they were lepers; most shops refused their business. Draco had taken to ordering through post, having it all delivered to a box in the village. Most of their food was delivered by a Muggle service to the little guard house at the end of the drive and the rest they grew together in what had once been a prize winning estate garden.

Draco was considering letting out some of the tenements that had not been in use since Grindelwald. Financing had led to their recent fortune, but times had changed and it wasn't just their good name. Renting houses and using some of the estate as farm might fill the gap in their coffers. Might. The book Draco had been reading was the journal of his great grandfather; he was hoping to find advice on letting out the land.

The distinctive pop of a house-elf came from the parlour. "The papers you asked for," Missy said.

Papers? Draco turned into the room and froze. Harry Potter? Eating sandwiches on their good china? Saviour or not, Harry Potter did not deserve to be eating off of them. Well, if Draco was honest with himself, he couldn't really name one person who did; the china was old, older than the journal he had been reading and was for holidays and people like the Minister. At present, there was no Minister (the elections were fraught with who would best serve the people's interest and the public continued to debate what that interest was, in light of the War and all the subjects that had been turned up during it) and any holidays Draco and his mother would have would not be a celebration, not worth using the good china.

"Draco," Mother greeted him. _Greeted._ She looked uncomfortable, too. "Come in, come in. I was just having a wonderful conversation with Mr. Potter. It involves you, actually."

A small table had been brought to her side and parchment and ink sat on it. A quill hovered over the paper. Draco looked at Potter's face and frowned. In the months after the war, Potter had changed. His face was harsher, his hair less tame (though Draco wondered how such a thing was possible), and he was leaner. Magic crackled in the air around him and he looked...fit. Much more fit than a Quidditch player. 

"Draco," Potter leered. 

Swallowing hard, Draco crossed the room and sat next to his mother. "Harry."

Potter smiled, darkly. He looked Draco up and down and Draco resisted the urge to squirm, but it was difficult. That wasn't a polite look. It was hungry, almost feral, and demanded things. Mother's breath stuttered, just a bit. "Mr. Potter has an offer for us."

An offer? Draco narrowed his eyes. He wanted to say that they didn't need anything from anyone, but it would be a lie and there were rumours of the truth, enough that Potter would have heard. "You said it involves me?" he asked instead.

Potter sat back, leisurely. "Your time and body, specifically."

"What?" Draco hissed. His mind scattered to the parchment and ink, Potter and his mother, and the word, _offer_. "You can't mean--I'm not...Mother!"

Mother pulled on his arm and he sat, weak kneed and unsure of when he had stood up. Mother smiled weakly at Potter. "Draco, darling. Please. Mr. Potter's offer is generous and would give us both protection and a future."

A future? Draco scoffed. "I fail to see how whoring me out would solve anything."

Potter laughed. It wasn't entirely a happy sound. He sat forward and put his cup down. "Whoring you out? It's a bit more complex than that. I'm a werewolf, Draco, and the full moon is next week. On Samhain."

Draco turned to his mum, wide eyed. "You'd let him take me?"

She lifted her chin and looked away. "While money was never part of these negotiations, Mr. Potter has offered me a thousand Galleons for you to be his mate on the hunt and after, has asked for your hand in marriage."

Growing up, Draco had known that he would likely not have a say in who he would marry, but it was always his parents who would make an offer to a young witch. Draco had never been told he would find himself being married off; in fact, not one Malfoy male in over a thousand years had been in this position. The last had been a Veela who was a submissive in his mateship. 

And yesterday, his mother had hid his test results; a test that he'd done after a visit to a Mind Healer. 

In the last year, Draco had been moody and restless, a bit melancholic and feeling out of sorts. He'd gone to St. Mungo's to inquire about a Mind Healer, but when he'd described his worries and symptoms, she had ordered a blood test. Something about his Malfoy blood--specifically, the diluted Veela blood--and the Black blood coming together. When he had told his mum, she had gone pale and had taken the test results before Draco knew they'd been delivered.

It was only because of the house-elves that he knew they had arrived.

"Is this because of my test?" he asked.

She bit her lip and his hands clenched into fists. Potter breathed deep. "A submissive male Veela. You're a prize, you know. I came here because I heard rumours that you needed money. I figured you would at least be honest about it and wouldn't trick or use me to get it. I've had enough of that, thank you very much."

"And what, none of the Weasleys were desperate enough?" Draco hissed, unable to stop himself.

Mother's eyes darkened, but Potter held his hand up. "I could only ever see myself with one Weasley and Ginny wanted nothing to do with me once I was bitten."

Draco rolled his eyes. "So you thought we would be desperate enough to agree?"

"We are, Draco," Mother pointed out. She sighed and took Draco's hands in hers. "My darling, unless we can find anyone who will rent from us--and of course I knew what you were up to--we will be destitute in a few years. We'll have to sell off our heirlooms, all of them. All the books you love, great-grandmere's--your--bed, maybe even the house itself. And in time, we would then become a mere footnote in history, not even a Manor house in which visitors can come and visit.

"What's more is that you would have no heirs, my love. I have sent offers out, of course I have. Not a single one, though, has returned positively, if they return at all. No one wants the Malfoy blood tainting their family. They would prefer that we become a footnote, wiped out. The cruelty of this generation will prevent us from the forgiveness of atonement and future generations. But Mr. Potter's offer will save us from that. Do you see? Your blood is unique enough that you can mate with Mr. Potter on Samhain, the only night that such children are beget, and after, his money will help us keep our home and heirlooms, to pass them on."

"I've agreed to two heirs," Potter added. "One each for our families. I've restored my family home where you and I will live. Your mother can remain here, if she likes, or she can move in with us to help with the children. I'm also able to help you create a proper tourism trade here. A great number of Muggles are doing the same--inviting people to tour the rooms, a peek into how the other half lives. Some open their homes to host hunting retreats or company conferences. It was Hermione's idea and she would work with Mrs. Malfoy to put the idea into motion. Several purebloods with homes like these agreed to the idea--in lieu of paying the fines, the proceeds go to the Ministry for a set number of years."

Draco sneered. "So people can come in here and act superior at how dark the Malfoys are?"

"No," Potter said. "We were adamant that nothing of the sort would happen. We want to show that purebloods aren't evil or dark. They had a rich past, families, and aren't just some passing bit of history. Anyone who stays in the home, such as those on the retreats, would be under contract to respect the home and families."

"Admirable," Draco reluctantly admitted. "And you'd do that; you'd share your wealth, all for my hand?"

Potter nodded. "And children."

Mother squeezed Draco's hand. "I won't agree if you don't, but without this offer, Draco, we are done."

_Present_

Agreeing didn't necessarily mean that Draco would go down without a fight. A quick contract had been drafted that afternoon and before the ink could dry, solicitors had been sent letters so that a final, more legally binding contract could be instituted. The initial one had been a quick list of what both parties wanted and would then receive. There had been staggering monetary figures written down, once Potter had produced paperwork from Gringotts--brought for that exact reason--proving his financial solvency. Points on how many children and what each would inherit, points on what Potter expected of Draco as his spouse, points on what Draco expected, points of things that his mother knew more about (such as family heirlooms); all of it had been written that day. Three signatures with two house-elf marks; one from each family.

It would stand up in court until the final contract would be delivered on All Saint's Day. It could only be filed in the Ministry when the mating occurred: the mating mark would only appear on the paper and on Draco once it happened.

Draco, mercilessly, would have that mark burned on him for his life. The mark that showed he had let a werewolf fuck him. The mark that, with Draco's luck, would become etched on his face so that all who saw him would know. That he had traded himself for money and status.

It wasn't that he was bothered that people would know; it was that he could never pretend otherwise. That he would be at gatherings and political events and out shopping and there would never be a conversation that could ignore it. It wasn't like the suspicions of a Dark Mark. No, it would be there and the pity, the hatred, the shame; none of it would be hidden.

His only hope for the future would be Harry bloody Potter and it burned.

That he had had no choice burned more.

The Mating had begun only an hour ago. Draco had gone to the tent set aside for the mates at the edge of this wood; unplottable, it nominally belonged to werewolves. The public knew nothing about it and blood magic, repeatedly spilled in all sorts of rituals the werewolves had performed through centuries to keep the wards strong, kept it hidden. Only a few in the Ministry knew about it. It was an ancient agreement, that the werewolves have this forest and they would keep to it, would never take another forest for their use.

They ran here, all the wolves, during the full moon. A private space where they didn't have to worry about wizards and witches hunting them down, a place where no Muggle would discover their secret. Any werewolf who ran elsewhere was considered an outcast, free to be hunted down by the wizarding community. Any wizard or witch who trespassed was considered free prey. 

A full moon on Samhain was rare and Draco had heard of rituals and parties being held in honour. Earlier in the day, a forum had been held at the Ministry discussing the history of Samhain, why it had once been sacred, and what it meant for magic, for magical beings, for witches and wizards.

For werewolves, it meant unfettered mating. A hunt beginning at sundown and lasting all night. All werewolves participating had gone out and picked witches, wizards, magical beings. There were more mates than werewolves and Draco had questions that he dared not ask. All of these people, handpicked, had arrived two hours before sunset for a banquet and ritual bathing.

Fifteen minutes before complete darkness and they were ushered out into the woods. To be hunted like animals, but instead of eating, they were to be mounted.

Many of them were going to be impregnated.

Draco, being a submissive Veela as his mother had confirmed for him, was uniquely suited for pregnancy. In the past, submissive male Veela had been carriers, but for some reason, the trait had shown up in fewer of them until it was nearly unheard of. Not impossible, of course. Some wizard, married to a submissive Veela, had developed a potion that given at the right time of year or during certain rituals, would enable them to become pregnant.

In addition to the food that had been served, Draco had had to drink that potion. It had been sweet and as light as fairy wine. Easy to swallow and left him feeling as if he was going to fly apart. 

It lay in his belly now, telling him to just stop and let Potter take him. Let the mating begin. It wanted Draco to kneel down and be impregnated.

Draco's fellow mates, as they were called, had been excited. They were chatting about the agreements they had struck or children they hoped to have, or even simple discussions on dreamy romances. He wondered where the werewolves had found them; most of the wizarding world was in agreement that werewolves were dangerous and needed to be locked up, kept away from the public. How had the werewolves, then, found those who disagreed?

Draco skirted one such person, almost running into the clearing where she was begging for more from two wolves, one behind her and one in front. The one in front was watching with yellow eyes, holding the woman while the other fucked her hard. It was grotesque and he gagged as kept running.

A wolf landed mere feet from him and he tripped, trying to turn around as his momentum kept him moving forward. He landed hard, breath leaving him. The wolf covered the last distance and Draco was trapped. Four long spindly legs created a cage and a wolf's snout breathed him in.

"Make it quick," Draco hissed, opening his legs and closing his eyes. 

The wolf snorted, breath foul, and snapped its teeth, inches from Draco's nose. He swallowed hard and turned his head, thinking to placate it by trying to be submissive. The wolf huffed and licked his neck. Draco shivered and his cock hardened. No, no, no. He didn't want this! He didn't--

The wolf shimmered and Harry kneeled above Draco. He smirked when Draco's eyes widened. "I'm the Alpha for a reason, Draco. Power, which I have in spades. Power that lets me do this."

Draco shook his head. "But--werewolves can't, everyone knows they stay wolf during the full moon nights."

Harry shrugged. "I've always been able to, though. Shift when I want. No one is sure exactly why, though there have been tests done. But I don't care much why." He licked his lips. "Tonight I thought you might appreciate a gentler touch. You liked it the night before, right? When I had you?"

Draco blushed and looked away. An engagement was as good as marriage and Harry wanted to know Draco as a man before Samhain. In the house at Godric's Hollow, Draco had gone to bed a few nights ago only to find Harry already in it. What had followed had been the longest, roughest, but most enjoyable night of Draco's life.

"Maybe you should have said," Draco bit out.

Harry hummed, sounding thoughtful but Draco suspected otherwise. "Oh? That I had no plans to take you as a wolf? That I would hunt you down only to have you like this? Is that you wanted to hear?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Don't play coy. It doesn't suit you."

"I wanted to smell you," Harry whispered, ignoring Draco. "Your fear and your adrenaline and your courage and your anger. I knew you wouldn't be afraid like most wizards are and I knew you'd not be like this lot, whimpering and begging for an animal to take you. No, I wanted all of this."

Draco lifted his chin. "Well? Are you going to take it?"

Harry smirked. "Do you want me to? Honestly. Tell me what you want. Not what you think I want to hear and not what the potion is telling you. I want to hear what Draco Malfoy, soon to be husband, wants on his wedding night."

Wedding night. Technically, the wedding ceremony wasn't until March, but tonight would be the mating the werewolf wanted and tomorrow, the paperwork would be in a file cabinet. Tonight, if Draco said yes, one final time, tonight he would be the husband to the wizarding world's saviour. Tonight, Draco would be wed.

"Tell me," Harry crooned softly.

Draco whimpered. "Softly, Harry." Oh, he was so fucked. Hadn't he always been told he was too soft, too romantic? No woman wanted a man like that he had been told, but it was who Draco was. Maybe this was fated. "Open me up slowly and fuck yourself into me, in inches. I want kisses, too. And whispers."

"I know." Harry licked Draco's neck and Draco shivered. Now, when he wrapped his ankle around Harry's knee, Harry didn't stop him or mock him. He must have remembered; remembered the way Draco had been most responsive when Harry took his time as dawn broke two nights ago. Oh, they had had fun before, orgasms and pleasure and moans and groans aplenty. They'd even splintered the headboard. But it was with the sun peeking into the room that Draco had opened up fully, his mouth never closing as he moaned low and soft and then whispered words he couldn't remember even now and his body quaking and twisting and letting Harry in, in, in and his hands caressing and holding and ceaselessly moving.

Draco let out a shaky breath. "Don't hold it against me." 

Harry smiled, but it held no promise. "As long as you swear that I can have your fire out of bed. Oh, I'll want it sometimes in bed, but I want it most of all when we're deciding on how to raise the children and who we should invite for dinner and all the little things of our everyday lives. Can you do that for me, Draco? Tell me you can and I'll take you now as slow as you want it."

Fire? Harry wanted fire? Draco slowly smiled. "A trade for a trade. I can do that, Potter. I'll bite you and scratch you and kick you, I swear I will. Because if you think for minute that I'll have Weasleys over for Sunday dinner I'll--mm."

Harry's kisses were drugging. Especially now, when he was soft and gentle. Soothing and petting. Draco sighed into Harry's mouth and arched his back. Harry chuckled and hiked Draco's leg up onto his hip so he could start opening Draco. A whispered spell provided lube and Draco's head tilted back as one finger became two became three. Harry kissed and sucked Draco's skin, his free hand exploring Draco, still unsure of how to touch Draco to get the best responses.

Draco didn't care much. This was more than he expected, more than he thought he'd ever have. Oh, he had known that Harry would never be truly cruel. He was too good for that, but Draco hadn't expected any softness or warmth between them, in their marriage bed. To have it, though, well, he didn't care how long it took Harry to know him well. Harry had been good to him so far and was taking his time to discover Draco.

And then, Harry was in Draco and then further, pushing Draco to open as wide as he would and could go. Draco groaned with the pain-pleasure of it and Harry drank the sound from Draco's lips.

"Something I should have also told you," Harry growled. Draco bit his lip and told himself it was too soon to tell Harry to growl more. 

"A knot?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded. "Even in my human form, during the full moon, I'll knot during sex."

Draco shook his head. "It's--it's fine. I expected a knot anyway."

"And what have you been reading that you expected that?" Harry asked, chuckling.

Draco bit his chin. "Shut up and fuck me."

Harry rolled his eyes and bent his head. Draco lifted his chin and Harry whined as he pressed his nose right against Draco's skin. His thrusts became shallower and Draco winced when he felt the knot begin to form. He was grateful it wasn't something that just _happened_ ; the salve he prepared for the morning after might not be needed after all. 

Wrapping a hand around Draco's cock, Harry whispered, "Ready?"

Draco groaned and pushed back against Harry's thrust. With a growl, Harry brought Draco to his climax in a few strokes and then, when Draco was still seeing stars, came himself, his knot fitting just inside Draco, locking them together.

"I'm hoping for three," Harry said to Draco.

Draco's eyes popped open. "Three? Potter, are you insane? You said one now and--"

"One later, yes," Harry admitted. "I know. But I want it. You, heavy with three pups. Swearing at me and breaking my hand and all of it. Three."

"Bastard," Draco swore, punching Harry's shoulder. "Three and you'll never have me pregnant again."

Harry grinned. "We'll see."

_Epilogue_

"James, stop pulling your sister's hair!" Draco yelled, stepping over the mess of toys in the middle of the room.

Scorpius and Albus quietly kept reading in the corner. James and Lily sprang apart and began sulking. Draco shook his head. "And what happened to cause this?"

Both of them started explaining so Draco held up his hand and they stopped. "Albus?" Draco asked.

"James took her doll so she kicked him and then he pulled her hair," Albus reported.

Draco raised his eyebrow and his oldest and youngest both looked down, caught out. They'd try later to get Albus back for tattling, but Scorpius and Albus both would stop that. All of them were magically strong, but Albus and Scorpius were sneaky about it. James and Lily would catch up, Draco was sure of it, but for now, he was glad that at least the children hadn't become three-against-one.

"James, go downstairs to the sitting room," Draco began. "Lily, the hallway. One hour and then I want you to write out an apology."

They whined, but left. Draco turned to his other two children. "Have you finished the work that your tutor left you?"

"Yes," Scorpius answered.

Draco smiled. "Thank you. Go ahead, go play outside."

They left quickly and Draco put all of the toys left out into a pile. Later he'd have the kids pick them up. Arms wrapped around his middle and he raised an eyebrow. "Hello."

Harry sniffed his neck. "Hi."

"Don't let James or Lily tell you that they're being punished unfairly," Draco warned. Early on, the kids had all learned that Harry was the weaker parent, gullible and willing to believe professed innocence. He'd let the kids stay up past their bedtime, just a little, and there were always sweets.

Far too often Draco found his punishments undone when Harry thought that one of the kids had been blamed for something they hadn't done. It wasn't that Harry did it on purpose, but he seemed to forget that his children were Marauders, Blacks, and Malfoys. They'd have the devil believing they were angels. But Harry was learning. 

"James tried," Harry said. "I told him that he had to have done something and that his punishment would be over when it was supposed to be and not before."

Draco smiled and turned around to kiss Harry. "Good."

Harry waggled his eyebrows. "Do I get a reward?" He pushed his hips against Draco's, making it clear why he had come home early.

Tomorrow would be the first night of the full moon and Harry was always randy for the duration. It was also dangerous, to Draco at least. Well, not his health really, but for his sanity. Like Harry's ability to transform willingly in and out of his werewolf form, Draco's second and third pregnancies had happened with no explanation and without the aid of a potion. After four children, Draco began keeping Harry on lockdown during the full moon.

Harry smirked. "I can see what you're thinking. I know why you keep me at arm's length during the full moon. But, love, that's the thing about this one." He licked Draco's neck and breathed deeply again. "You're already pregnant."

"What?!" Draco pushed Harry away and thundered to the basement, to the potions lab he kept there. "You're a bastard, Harry Potter, and if I am pregnant again, I'm cutting off your dick!"

"What's a dick?" Lily asked from the hallway.

"Why would you do that?" James yelled, scared, from the sitting room.

"Draco!" Harry whined from the nursery.

"Dad, Scorpius did it again!" Albus announced from the kitchen.

"Did not!" Scorpius growled. 

Draco slammed the basement door closed. Bloody Potters. 

His stomach churned, a stomach bug he had thought all week. He banged his head against the door. Four pregnancies. Only because of Harry fucking Potter. 

But the Manor was thriving under his mother's care and the steady stream of visitors, both for tours and retreats, as Harry promised. And Scorpius would inherit the Manor and the Malfoy name, would keep their family going for generations to come. Draco's money was good in shops and despite his mating mark--appearing on his neck and unable to be hidden--he was treated if not kindly then at least with grace. 

He had whored himself out, to save everything, and yet, he thought, that he would make the same decision again.

His breakfast threatened to reappear. Maybe he would make the same decision. Maybe.

"Draco?" Harry's voice threaded through the door, soft and sweet, no guile. 

Fuck. Of course he would have. If Harry asked in that tone. Draco was helpless against it.

"I'm sorry," Harry continued. "Let me in? I'll even let you have my dick if you'd like. On or off me."

A chorus of 'ews' followed the statement and Draco heard a bang from Harry's side. He smirked and opened the door a bit.

"Watch your siblings," Harry told whoever was near him.

Draco raised an eyebrow when Harry entered and crooked his finger. "With me. I have a pregnancy test to perform and you are going to drink the infertility potion I brewed just last night."

Harry swallowed hard, but nodded. "Okay."

Draco lifted his chin and lead Harry down. Oh, Harry might be an Alpha in his pack, but in his home? In his relationship? There was no doubt that Draco ruled. And if Draco wanted to fuck Harry without getting pregnant, Harry would take the infertility potion without a second thought.

Yeah, Draco had whored himself out and gotten everything he wanted. He silently set a quick dusting spell on the corner he kept clean for specific reasons. After all, the basement was not allowed for little ones. Not like their bedroom.

Harry sat and waited while Draco began. Draco sighed happily.


End file.
